


Tales of Vesuvia

by grumblebee_dani



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:30:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee_dani/pseuds/grumblebee_dani
Summary: This is a collection of stories about each of the mcs I created for the six love interests in the Arcana. There will be some overlap of characters, but the focus will be on the events that led to each mc meeting their love interest.





	1. Iphigenia

IPHIGENIA

1

Perynn was beautiful in a way that words and photographs could only glimpse. The chain of islands spanned over five miles of barely charted waters that brought the only news of the outside world. A traveler once called it heaven on earth. I was born on the main island, Manake. The only one with a port, it was the hub for everything in Perynn. My family was made of traders and shopkeepers, and it was an honor to us all when I was chosen to become one of the Yoramaya. On my thirteenth birthday I received the ceremonial tattoos on my feet that granted strength, protection, and longevity along with the beaded costume that each Yora wore. The Yoramaya were a group of dancers that performed for all of Perynn during festivals and auspicious days. I loved the dancing; the way I moved with the other girls to tell the stories of the gods always gave me the same thrill. It was during one of these dances that I first learned what it meant to be a magician.

As a child, my mother had told me stories of the mermaids who lived just beyond the fishing boats' reach. How they arced through the air with the dolphins and sang with the whales. I had been scolded ever since then for swimming out too far, trying to catch a glimpse of a scaly tail. I would spend every moment I could on the beach with my friends, letting the tides reach out and pull me into the crystal clear water. On the day I first used magic, I was not anywhere near the ocean. I was twirling across the stage lit by torches that flickered with our footfalls, keeping an eye on the one closest to my position. It was the finale, and I leapt into the air to flip and return to solid ground, but the fire leapt with me. Gasps of awe and fright rang out from the crowd below, and I backed away from the flames that threatened to grow higher. Unsure of what to do, I poured my concentration into the torch and suddenly every one of them were extinguished. Blind in the darkness, I felt hands on my shoulders guiding me back to the streets. In the light of a shop, I saw my mother watching me with uncertainty, her hands still holding onto me. 

Over time, I learned to control my ability and shape it into a tool I could use in any situation. We sold our stove salamander and used the money to fill out our savings. Since the day at the festival, my family had been slowly collecting funds to send me to a place called Vesuvia, where it was said that magicians could be trained properly. Despite the apprehension of leaving my parents and everything I knew behind, I was excited to see the rest of the world. Perynn wasn't as big as it had seemed when I was a child, and there was so much more out there just waiting for me to explore it. 

2

Vesuvia was not quite the wonderland I had expected, but it did not disappoint magically. Everywhere I went there were traces of it. I wasn't just feeling the sensation of fire magic either, there was a myriad of auras that I had never experienced before. I spent my days wandering the streets familiarizing myself with the city and its mysticalities, and my nights at home in the shop I had been gifted by a generous woman who was leaving Vesuvia to be near her grandchildren. It was pure luck that I had been given a home that could serve as a way to make a living, but I knew I would have to put the work in to keep fortune in my favor. Over the first few months, I turned the lower floor into a respectable magic shop where I could sell items I had brought from Perynn and my abilities as a magician. It wasn't long before I was making a steady income, one that allowed me a small vacation.

I had taken a day off and decided to spend it going on a romp through the streets. It had been awhile since I was free to wander about and see what came my way. On this particular day, what came was a shadow lurking in my peripheral vision. Confident in my abilities, I continued on without so much as a wayward glance. As I paused at a stall selling fresh pumpkin bread, I could feel the shadow drawing closer. And then...it was gone. I went about my day as usual, not wanting to give the shadow a reason to attack, until I reached my front door. This mysterious visitor must have noticed where I lived, or at least guessed the approximate location. Steeling my nerves, I stepped into the darkness. 

Allowing a small flame to come to life on my palm, I set down my bag and let the flame shoot off to the various lanterns around the main room. Vision fully restored, I was not too shocked to see a figure lounging on the armchair by the window. "Don't mind me, I'm just here to observe." Moving around to put away my things, I kept a careful eye on the intruder. The voice was probably female, though it was hard to tell with their face obscured by a hood and the scarf around their lower features.  
"Mind if I ask what exactly you're looking for? If you want something from the shop, you'll have to come back tomorrow." 

The figure tilted their head in a thoughtful way. They seemed perfectly at ease in my home, like they broke into places all the time. "Whether the money is worth the connection."

I hopped onto the counter with my legs crossed beneath me. Now I was interested. "You going to explain that, or are you just gonna brood until one of us falls asleep?"

The figure laughed under the scarf, letting some of the tension out of the room. "Well...let's just say my job isn't very nice, and neither are the people who hire me. Some of them are worse than others, and I think I may have agreed to work for one of those guys when I took this job. See, I don't usually ask questions with this stuff, but it has come to my attention that you don't seem to be worth my time."

I scoffed and the figure raised their hands in a 'sorry, but that's how it is' kind of gesture.

"What I mean is...you aren't worth killing because you seem like a pretty decent person."

Now there was a shocker. "You were sent to kill me? By who?"

"Like I said, I don't ask questions. But my employers know that I only take a job when it counts for something. I'm not just gonna go around slicing up kids and grandmas. I like to get paid for something I won't lose sleep over."

I leaned forward, not caring how eager I sounded. "So you only kill bad guys."

"In the simplest terms, yes." The figure sighed and pulled off their hood and scarf, running their fingers through long brown hair. "I guess if I'm not gonna gut you tonight, I might as well introduce myself. Name's Lyrica. You?"

"Iphigenia, but you can call me Geenie."

3

I had been taught to treat people how I wanted to be treated, and that extended to my would-be murderer. Lyrica had her own place somewhere in another district, but she swung around every now and then to check up on me. It was sweet, though I knew she was also making sure no one else was coming after me. Over time she became my closest friend, and she brought me all kinds of interesting wares to sell that were likely stolen, but I didn't pry. Lyrica had her ways of getting by in Vesuvia, and I had mine. 

Not one for public spectacle, she also granted me the opportunity to attend the Masquerade one year while she watched over the shop. I had missed it the previous year due to unruly revelers smashing a window while I was gone. Not quite a master of transformation magic, I was in need of a costume, which led me to the market. Among the stalls was a small tent with obviously magic related symbols woven into the fabric. Intrigued, I peeked inside to find a young man with fluffy white hair settled behind a small table laden with hand painted masks. It took no convincing for me to go inside and introduce myself to the handsome stranger. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Geenie. I'm Asra."

Brimming with excitement for the Masquerade and the chance to talk to someone so cute, I accidentally let a few sparks fly from my fingertips. Asra's eyes widened, and he stood up from his seat to get a closer look. 

"How long have you had your magic?"

I shrugged, feeling my face heat up. "Since I was a teenager." 

He beamed brighter than any flame I could conjure as he said, "I was pretty young too. I've never seen you around before, are you new here?"

"Almost a year, I think. I'm from Perynn, but I don't know if any of your maps would show it."

Asra sat back down and rested his chin in his hand. "Sounds familiar. Is it north of here?"

"By a couple hundred miles, yeah." I was liking this other magician more and more. I picked up a mask and turned it around in my hands before holding it up to my face. "What do you think? This one or the white one?" 

Was he blushing? "Definitely this one. The gold brings out your eyes." 

Hearing this, I noticed just how deep and mesmerizing his own purple eyes were. It took me longer than I would have liked to turn away. 

Taking the money I handed him, Asra let his fingertips linger on mine. "Maybe I'll see you again…"

"I'd like that."

The Masquerade was incredible, but I couldn't stop thinking of a certain fluffy haired magician. The food would have tasted even better if I could have shared it with him...the music even more enticing if I could have danced with him. Cursing myself for being such a hopeless romantic, I walked back home to find Lyrica in the armchair with a large book on her lap. 

"What's with you? You look like you ate something weird."

I ran a hand through my hair, yanking at the tangles. "It's nothing. I'm going to bed now, but I'll see you later."

Eyeing me suspiciously, she didn't press me. "Goodnight then."

I nodded my farewell and went up to bed, hoping my dreams would be more forgiving.

No such luck. My night was spent tossing and turning, dreaming of nothing but the curious vendor with the shining purple eyes. I calmed myself with a cup of tea and the assurance that I could always use the mask I bought for a tracking spell if I got so desperate. Fortunately, that wasn't necessary, as Asra himself came into the shop that very afternoon. 

Looking just as surprised as I was, he stammered, "Oh, uh, hi Geenie. I didn't know...do you have mustard seed here?" 

Not wanting to leave him stranded, I nodded and grabbed some from the shelves behind me. Plunking it on the counter, I managed to reply, "Hey Asra. That'll be two coppers." 

No longer fumbling, he paid and turned toward the door, stopping just before reaching for the handle. "Geenie...just so I know I'm not going crazy, did you feel anything last night?"

I tried to look relaxed and probably failed miserably. "What do you mean? Like something magicky?"

"Yeah…" He rubbed the back of his head, making the hair stick up. I could practically feel my heart melting. "Sorry, I don't mean to bother you. I just thought...it doesn't matter. Have a nice day, Geenie." 

Without thinking, I ran to follow him out the door. "Asra, wait! What did you feel?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, surprised that I would be so impulsive. "I don't know. Something...good."

"Come back inside, Asra." He didn't even hesitate.

4

We never named the feeling, but it stayed with us over the days. Asra kept coming back to see me, and the feeling became warmer and safer than any blanket I'd ever slept under. It crept into the spaces between us, pulling us closer until we couldn't go anywhere together without holding hands. It smelled like fresh pumpkin bread and felt like a squeeze from Faust, Asra's snake familiar. I don't know what it was initially, but over the weeks and months and years, it became love. 

Asra moved in with me after my second Masquerade, our first together. He helped me run the shop and set up a tarot reading room in the back. He never missed an opportunity to kiss me good morning, whether it was on my lips, my nose, my hand. We traveled to distant lands and learned about all different kinds of magic. My greatest triumph was not just creating my own gate to the magical realm, but seeing the pride and affection in Asra's eyes when I took us through for the first time. 

It wasn't long before I introduced him to Lyrica and told him of my family back in Perynn. In turn, he took me to meet his friends Countess Nadia Satrinava, Dr. Julian Devorak, and Muriel, his best friend from childhood. Since moving to Vesuvia, I was starting to feel like I had a family with me again.


	2. Lyrica

LYRICA

1

Ithanara was beautiful, if not the most interesting place in the world; a peninsula isolated from the cities of the mainland, and home to the priestesses of Rhydia, goddess of counseling and healing. Like most, I was not born there, but I had no memory of any time before being part of the secluded community. Families who couldn't support themselves often gave their young daughters to be raised into a life of worship and generosity. That may have been well and good for a lot of the girls, but I couldn't get the idea of leaving out of my head. There was so much I was missing out on, and giving advice to farmers only took up so much of the day. Unfortunately, this led to a bad habit of seeing which plants would fog up my head until I had a good sleep. The only worthwhile part of living on Ithanara was Aida. In the Voice of Rhydia, our language amongst the priestesses, we called each other sister. Her patience and reserved nature curbed my hunger for change, while my confidence helped her to build some of her own. All of the women called each other sister, but she was the one I truly meant it for. 

Aida and I spent most of our time in the forests surrounding the tall hill where the temple stood. She would go back to fulfill her duties and do her part for the community and I would make myself useful by identifying the flora and fauna hidden between the trees. I was certainly not the most well liked priestess of Rhydia, but I wasn’t a moocher either. There weren’t many others who would make the trek to find the best ingredients for meals and spells. To me, magic was a tool that I left to those with a knack for it. Aida could use it, but she always specialized in healing without much training or interest in any of the other mystical arts. The first time she ever used magic was after I had taken a fall from an admittedly precarious position on a tree branch. With worry as a motivator, she pressed her hands on the wound to stop the blood, a faint blue glow pulsing to life under her palms. The wound closed in an instant as we gaped. Aida was reluctant to tell the high priestess of her newfound power, but I managed to convince her that it could only be used for good. I wouldn’t have made it back on my own without her healing magic. 

“I’ll go with you when you tell her. It’ll be fine, I promise.” She relaxed slightly as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Okay, but let’s not say how bad you got hurt. I don’t want to worry anyone.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

High Priestess Gwenore was not impressed by our tardiness, but her mood changed for the better when we described Aida’s power.

“How fascinating...could you do it again?”

Aida shifted her feet under Gwenore’s intense gaze. “I-I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we find out?” The older woman stepped into the kitchen and brought out a knife, which she used to cut a thin line into her palm.

Despite Gwenore’s expectant demeanor, Aida looked like she would rather run away and hide. Nevertheless, she held her own hand over the bloody cut and closed her eyes. A long beat of silence was ended when the blue light, even fainter than before, began to emanate from the space between their hands. All three of us watched in amazement as the cut healed without a scratch left on the high priestess’ palm. Aida groaned as she swayed on her feet, head now clutched in her hands. I took her shoulders and pulled her to lean against me. 

“I’ll make sure she rests. Thank you, High Priestess.”

Nodding her acknowledgement, her eyes stayed on our backs as we ambled off to the sleeping quarters.

2

It was a gray morning in the beginning of autumn when I was startled awake by a cry from the forest. Always a light sleeper, I seemed to be the only one who heard. I disentangled myself from the dogpile of slumbering women and charged out into the trees. Branches whipping across my skin, I hardly noticed the pain as I ran at a dead sprint toward what had become screams of fear and agony. As the sound grew loud enough to be near, I crouched behind a cluster of bushes, peering through the leaves at a caravan surrounded by large men. I hardly ever came into contact with anyone who wasn’t a priestess, and was at a loss for how to approach them. Another peek, and I saw Aida’s dark curls bounce as she was lifted into the back of the vehicle. I couldn’t let them have her. I didn’t know what they were going to do, but I was not letting anyone take my sister away. 

Snapping a small branch off of a tree, I waited until I could only see one of the men and charged at him with the fury of a much more highly skilled warrior. Stabbing the man in the eye, he yelled out as he went down. Blood trickled out of his hands as he covered his face, and I stood frozen at the sight of it until I heard another man coming around the caravan. I jabbed the stick at him, but he easily swatted me away. He growled in a language I didn’t understand and stepped toward me. Turning on my heel, I ran to where I had last seen Aida. The caravan was covered in a tarp, and as I lifted a corner of the fabric, I was grabbed from behind and easily lifted up into the air by the largest person I had ever seen. He rasped at me, grunting when he saw I couldn’t understand, and tossed me into the caravan where I landed hard on the wooden slats next to my sister. Her hands and feet were bound with rope, and a cloth had been tied around her face to muffle any more screaming. Tears pricking at my eyes, I crawled over to her and held her close as she sobbed into the gag. With some shouting from outside, the caravan lurched into motion. Before I could try to unbind her, one of the men joined us as a guard. He glared and gestured for me to move to the other side of the vehicle, but I just glared back with no intention of letting Aida go. Not thinking it worth the trouble, the guard crossed his arms and leaned back against the wooden tailgate. 

3

The journey was not an easy one, but Aida and I managed to make it to the caravan’s destination in one piece. There were a few close calls thanks to miscommunication, but all I ended up with were a few bruises. Any time I would start to show any belligerence, Aida would nudge me with her foot and give me a look that could only mean stop. When the men forced us out of the caravan, we were in a city with more buildings and people than I could have ever imagined. Only our hands were bound, but we were given scarves to cover the ropes with as we moved through the marketplace into a huge outdoor arena. The men split up into groups; one would keep watch while the other would march the two of us down through a trapdoor in the arena to another marketplace. This one was darker and the wares seemed somewhat sinister compared to the commonplace goods hawked by the vendors above. One stall sold leeches while another displayed some kind of elixir that I did not want spilled on me. The crowds there were denser too; Aida huddled next to me to avoid being pushed around. If I had my hands free, I would have pushed back.

We were led to a large tent that took up an entire corner of the underground space. It seemed full to bursting, but the men strongarmed us through to a platform on the opposite end of the tent. Pushed up onto the creaking wood, I placed myself in front of Aida to shield her from whatever these people might try. As soon as we stopped moving, the crowd became a mass of yelling mouths, calling out in some garbled speech I didn’t know. I pulled at my bonds, trying to wriggle my fingers free, but the scarf tangled itself in the ropes, making it that much harder. I felt a light poke at my back and I turned to face Aida, who gingerly pried me loose from the bonds with her fingertips while the crowd kept yelling from behind us. With my hands finally free, I undid hers with ease and didn’t waste a second pulling her out of the tent into the uninviting marketplace. The yelling escalating into a roar, we weaved through the throng to the trapdoor. As I pushed Aida up onto the ladder, I spared a glance back to see the men pushing and shoving their way toward us. I didn’t bother with the ladder and pulled myself through the door by the rim. My arms aching, I grabbed Aida’s hand with no intention to ever lose her again, and sprinted toward the nearest exit. 

4

We didn’t rest until the city as a whole was behind us. Collapsing onto the ground with heavy breath, we seemed to be in a field of wheat. Allowing the tall plants to shelter us, we revelled in the feeling of freedom. It had been days since we had last seen Ithanara, and even there we never had much say. Hunger finally catching up to us, we decided to risk the nearby forest over the city. 

Not another soul joined us under the treetops, though Aida caught a few frogs when we stopped to cool off in a pond. 

“You know we’re not keeping them, right? It’s hard enough to fend for the two of us.”

Aida frowned and let the frogs slip back into the water. “I guess so...they were cute though.”

“If you say so.”

We traversed the forest for a few days, eating berries and sleeping in the tree branches. After a while though, I got restless. What was the difference between a new home and an old one when each day was the same? When I tried to explain this to Aida, she didn’t take it as well as I had hoped. 

“What do you mean you want to leave? We just got here!”

“I know, but I just can’t see myself being happy here. You can understand that, right?”

She sat down on a fallen tree trunk and pouted. “I want to stay.”

“So stay. Get a job, learn the language, do what you want. I’ve just gotta leave.”

“I don’t want us to be separated, Lyrica. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.” She picked at the bark until part of it began to peel. “Where would you go?”

I sighed and joined her on the fallen tree. “I don’t know. Remember when we went to the edge of the forest and we could see the water? There were a whole bunch of ships at the dock, and I bet one of them would take another passenger.”

She could see the glint in my eye, or maybe it was the way I spoke, but Aida let it go. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

“We’re almost adults, we can figure things out.”

She rolled her eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking and rested her head on my shoulder. “How many years did we have together? You were on Ithanara longer than I was, weren’t you?”

I pondered this for a moment. The priestesses didn’t give much importance to counting the days, and so we had no real way of knowing how many years had passed. “I’d say between ten and twenty. I’m already taller than Shari, and she used to be huge compared to us.”

Aida hummed in agreement. “I’ll never be as tall as you, will I?”

“You better not be.” I laughed as I dodged her light punch to my arm. It was hard to leave her, but I couldn’t bear to stay.

5

With a tearful goodbye, I left my sister on the banks of the city the next morning. It wasn’t any harder than I thought to convince a boat to take another into their crew. I was strong and unafraid of work, two things any sailor would look for in a shipmate. It wasn’t until we were out at sea that realized what kind of crew I was sailing with; at the first sign of another ship, everyone on deck drew a weapon of some kind and ran to some unspoken position, ready to engage. Unaware of what was to come, I was shepherded belowdecks, but no sound was muffled by the planks between us. These were not traders or transport, these were pirates.

I spent two years on that boat, three on the next, but I never felt at home until the last one I boarded: it housed a band of all female pirates who preferred exploring to pillaging. Called the Banshee, we communicated to each other mainly through piercing whistles that cut through the salty air like the surgical knives used by the doctor on board. Their name was Nazali, and we were fast friends. We looked out for one another, and they always prided me on how I could find the best ingredients and supplies in the congested depots. 

One day I had had enough of enduring Nazali’s complaints of not having an assistant to help them tend to every occupant of the ship and I joked that the next time we had a raid, I would bring one back for them. It was more thrilling and convenient than funny when the next raid really did bring what I had promised. As I swung onto the enemy ship, I spotted a figure descending from the deck and followed them to where they might store ammunition or other supplies. It was to my surprise that the room we both ended up in was quite similar to Nazali’s examination room. Cot in one corner, overloaded desk in another. The figure turned out to be a tall man with a mop of auburn hair who was so startled to find me behind him that he dropped a stack of papers onto the floor. By then my language skills had improved, so I was able to ask him for his role on the ship.

“Ah, you see, I’m a doctor.” He flashed a smile and replaced it with a frown in an instant. “Well, I will be once I complete my training. That’s why I’m here. To travel the world and find out everything there is to know about medicine-”

I grabbed his arm and cut him off, “Good enough. Come with me, pretty boy.”

He complied easily, even holding the door open for me as we exited onto the deck. I led him back to Nazali with a grin and a bow. 

“Told you I’d bring you an assistant.”

6

The man’s name was Julian, but everyone called him Ilya. His flair for dramatics almost immediately invoked my protective instincts, causing me to spend much more time with him than originally planned. 

“Lyrica, did I ever tell you of my time in Galgamye? Simply divine to vacation there, but not at all a place for homemaking, you know what I mean?”

Ilya captured my interest with his daring tales of adventure and kept me in stitches with his penchant for confessing his love for me every time his lips touched a drink. Over the months, I began to wish they were real. I kept him close at hand with shoddy excuses that Nazali saw through in a second. They teased me relentlessly as soon as Ilya left earshot, but it wasn’t enough to persuade me to possibly ruin what we had. I pined quietly and pushed down anything that resembled a feeling until Julian himself knocked on my door late one night.

“Lyrica, my dove, are you awake?”

I sat up in bed and waved him over.

“Lyrica, I have some...troubling news.” He fidgeted with the blanket and refused to look me in the eye.

“Spit it out, Ilyushka.”

“The captain has asked for me to inform you that at the meeting tonight, you know, the one you missed because of your headache? It was so dreadfully boring, you hardly missed a thing, dear.”

“Spit. It. Out.” I pulled his hand away from the bed and held it tight, fearing the worst.

“The captain has ordered a small group of the crew to stay in our next port to preside over a large shipment that she does not trust with the regular handymen.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and ran my free hand through my hair. “And she wants you to go with them.” Julian’s eyebrows knit together in a way that made me think my prediction was off. 

“No...she wants you to go.”

Stunned into silence, all I could do was avoid his suddenly intense gaze. 

“The captain trusts you, and she wants the best of the crew on land so that there’s less to worry about.” He pulled me close and rubbed patterns into my back. 

Leaning into his touch, I let my head rest on his shoulder. If I could have felt his heartbeat, it would have been racing as fast as my own. “Can’t you go with me?”

“I asked if I could...it was a definite no.”

“Guess there are enough doctors in the city.”

Julian kissed my forehead and sighed. “I’ll visit when I can. We can write to each other. It’ll be okay.”

It was always so hard to resist when he spoke that way. He could make anything sound possible with enough optimism in his voice. I stretched out in his lap and settled into a deep sleep; when I woke, everything would change, and I would have no simple way of seeing my love again.


	3. Aida

AIDA

1

Three days. That was how long it had been since my sister left on a pirate ship; I hadn’t known being alone would feel so suffocating. The forest was huge and the world beyond it seemed endless, but I had no claim to any of it. Ithanara was my home, and then it wasn’t. My sister was with me in my first memories and now she was gone. I spent those three days wandering through the brush as I had done with Lyrica. I watched the rabbits and foxes to see which plants were good to eat, I bathed in the river, and sang with the birds. I was free, but the emptiness in my chest weighed me down. 

On the fourth day, I risked slipping into the outskirts of the city to find a proper meal. I couldn’t speak to anyone but I could watch them. I saw young children tug on their parents’ sleeves to ask for things, I saw birds hop along the ground to search for crumbs. When someone approached a shop of any kind, they exchanged goods for little round pieces of gold and copper. Sometimes I would see these round pieces on the ground where people had dropped them; I kept them tucked into my pocket until I felt I had enough to try and use them. I weaved through the crowd until I smelled something delicious wafting from a nearby stall. There were slices of meat and vegetables on sticks that the vendor waved in the air to entice passersby. I waited to see someone else pay for one before I gave away too many round pieces. Three copper pieces exchanged hands and I got in line behind them. 

“One, please.”

The vendor tilted his head and I remembered that no one was able to understand my language, nor I theirs. I pointed at a stick and held out the copper pieces for the man to see. He nodded and took them, giving me my very first meal in the city. I resolved to find a better way to get those little round pieces than rooting through the gutter.

2

I spent the rest of the day wandering through the streets, just trying to get my bearings in the various bustling districts of the city. I tried to avoid the arena, but the size of it made that difficult. I had no intention of ever stepping onto the sandy floor of that monstrosity again. In my guideless tour, I found what appeared to be a small bookshop hidden in one of the smaller plazas. Quiet laughter followed my surprised flinch when the bells attached to the doorway chimed as I entered the shop. A young woman slipped behind the counter and spoke to me in that strange tongue, then shook her head when I didn’t answer. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a dusty leather book. Opening it, she flipped through the pages before settling on one and reading aloud. As the woman spoke, her words began to make sense to me. It was baffling, but I couldn’t help but be excited by the sudden understanding. 

“What was that? Do you know what I’m saying too?”

She closed the book and set it on the counter. “It was a translation spell, and yes I can.” Her smile warmed me from my face to my toes. “I’m Anfisa. Is there something you were looking for?”

I looked around the shop in wonder, hoping there would be some other fantastical surprise waiting somewhere in between the bookshelves. “I don’t know...I’m Aida. Thank you for the spell.”

“You’re very welcome, Aida. I take it you’re new to Vesuvia?”

She walked along the aisles of shelves, rearranging things and brushing away dust. I followed just behind her, trying not to touch anything. “I’ve been here a few weeks, but this is my first time in the city.”

Anfisa cocked her head at that, but asked no questions.

“Will the spell wear off?”

She made another turn and brought us back to the front of the shop. “Hmmm, it’s been awhile since I’ve cast it, but practicing the language should help you remember it.”

“How do I practice?”

She turned to look at me, pausing for a moment. “Come back around once and awhile and I’ll help you.” She pulled a book off of a shelf and handed it to me. “Try and read this, then come back with a list of the words you didn’t know. The spell only covers conversational speech, so there are plenty of things it misses.”

Beaming, I thanked her and practically ran back to the forest to curl up in a tree and start reading.

3

I made a habit of reading whenever I wasn’t sleeping or finding my next meal. Anfisa was kind enough to feed me when she could, but I didn’t want to impose. She kept me well stocked with new books of different genres, and I brought her lists of troublesome words that got smaller and smaller until I didn’t need one at all. Occasionally one would trip me up, but it was never worth writing down. Anfisa was a good woman, but I only saw her after I finished a book, and I still hadn’t found a way to get those little round pieces. When I asked her about them, she told me they were called coins, and that I should look for a job. I didn’t know what that was either, so she gave me a few names of vendors that might be hiring. 

It was harder to find the people than it was to persuade any of them to take me on as an employee. After the first accepted my offer, I still wanted to see what else the market had to offer, and I went to the forest that evening with a choice to make. 

The sun hadn’t yet made its way under the hills, so I decided to wander a little deeper into the forest than I had gone before. Confidence high and lungs full of fresh air, I traipsed between boulders and over gnarled roots until I heard a strange noise. It sounded like an animal had been hurt, so I turned heel and ran toward it, hoping I wouldn’t be too late. The noise became a howl just as I pushed through the trees to find two large shapes huddled on the ground. The larger of the two was not moving and was blocked by the second, a wolf snarling in my direction.

Putting my hands up in a gesture of peace, I spoke softly, “My name is Aida. Is your friend hurt?”

The wolf did not budge, but her hackles lowered slightly. If I moved a centimeter, she would bare her teeth at me and growl low in her throat.

“I can help, I promise.” I turned my palms toward her and allowed magic to flow into the lines of my skin, bathing me in a pale blue glow. 

The wolf huffed at me and lowered herself to the ground. I noticed that she kept her eyes on me and did not let her muscles relax, even in this less guarded position. As the larger form came into view, I recognized him as a young man, not much older than myself. Slowly kneeling beside him, I could tell his breathing was shallow and there were cuts and bruises covering almost every inch of visible skin. I could feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes, but I did not stray from the task at hand. My healing magic worked best when spread from the heart outwards, so I moved to his other side and tugged his clothes away from his chest until I had enough room for both of my hands to lay flat on his skin. The pale blue glow spread from my fingers to envelop the man entirely and the wounds faded as I kept my hands on his chest. His skin was frighteningly hot and his pulse was beating faster than my own as I felt my face flush from overexertion. 

Just as I began to see stars, the man’s eyelashes fluttered and I breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to be okay. Letting the darkness overcome me, I slumped against his stomach. What I did not see was the wolf’s wet nose nudging her friend awake. I did not see his eyes open fully and shift down to me, then back to the wolf. I did not see him struggle to sit up, then wrap his arms around me as if I were a child. I did not see him sway as he stood and lifted me onto his back to carry me to his home just beyond the limit of where I had explored.

4

When I awoke, I was lying on my back under a pile of furs. Feeling warmer and safer than I ever had, I allowed myself to drift back into sleep. When I awoke for the second time, the wolf had her snout in my face and was sniffing me anywhere she could reach. 

“Pftth!” Fur came flying out of my mouth and I sat up in bed. Wait, where did this bed come from? “Hello sweetheart, do you mind telling me where I am?” 

The wolf did not answer, but she did amble over to a blazing fireplace and curl up at the feet of the man I had found with her in the forest. He looked over at me through a curtain of long black hair without a word. Averting his gaze as soon as he saw me watching him, the man nodded toward a bowl sitting beside the bed.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him, but he turned away, cheeks reddening. The soup had hardly cooled, and it tasted so much better than Anfisa’s, though I’d never tell. Dropping the spoon into the empty bowl, I stood up and looked around for a sink. The man glanced at me and turned away again. 

“Where can I wash this?”

“...You don’t have to.” His voice was rich and deep, with a slight hoarseness. 

“I want to. You fed me, and I want to return the favor.”

He seemed to catch on that I wouldn’t be budging, so he pointed to a bucket by the door. “River’s just through those trees to your right when you go outside.”

Smiling at him again, he flushed just like before. I grabbed the bucket and put my dishes with the brush already inside. Opening the door, I felt the wolf’s fur against my leg. “You want to come along?” She snuffled her nose into my leg again. “I’d appreciate that.”

It wasn’t hard to find the river, and there were plenty of frogs to catch and release after I had cleaned up. My lower body had become thoroughly soaked, so I took the liberty of washing the rest. The water was slightly warm from the sun and it felt heavenly as it slid down my limbs back to the river below. Good and drenched, I followed the wolf back to her home. 

When I opened the door, the man was not alone. A child with fluffy white hair was sitting on a stool, swinging his legs. “Hello, I’m Asra! How do you know Muriel?”

5

Before I could respond, the man now identified as Muriel draped a blanket around my shoulders and took the bucket from my hands. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was set, causing me to worry that I had upset him somehow. “Muriel?”

My voice was gentle, but we all heard it waver. His whole body was tinged red as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Yes?” The word came out gravelly and harsher than he meant. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Asra gave him a look and sat down to play with the wolf. “Muri’s just fretting because you’re all wet and cold.”

He stiffened at the child’s words and shook his hair into his face so I couldn’t see how embarrassed he was. Softening, I went to sit by him. “It’s okay, Muriel. I just went for a swim.” He tried not to return my smile, but I caught the corner of his mouth quirk up before he could force it back down. “Thank you for the blanket, I feel much better now.” I leaned against him and wrapped myself tighter in the warm wool. 

Asra stuck his tongue out in our direction. “You guys are gross. Don’t give me any of your cooties.” 

I returned the gesture and snuggled closer to Muriel, who deliberately stayed frozen in place. “What’s her name?” My voice had melted into a sleepy whisper, and I could feel myself drifting off. 

“Inanna.” She perked up her ears at the sound of her name.

“That’s pretty.”

When I opened my eyes, Asra was gone and the light from the window had dimmed a bit. Muriel and I were in the same positions as before, his head resting on the wall behind us as he slept. He looked so different when he was sleeping...it was nice to see him relax. I didn’t realize that I was staring until his breath hitched and his eyes slowly blinked open. Caught in the act, I couldn’t look away as our eyes locked for a moment too long. It was my turn to blush and Muriel was already a shade darker. Not knowing what else to do, I buried my face in his chest and hoped the situation would resolve itself. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky. He gave me an awkward pat on the head and shifted uncomfortably until I got up and went to sit with Inanna for lack of anything better to do. 

Clearing his throat, he spoke up from behind me, “Do you live close by?”

“I guess so. I usually try to stay in the forest when I can….Why?”

He was silent while he thought about what to say. “...You don’t have a house?”

“No.”

Another pause, this one much longer. “You can stay here if you need to.” He wouldn’t look at me when I turned toward him in surprise. “...It’s not safe.”

Thinking back to the condition Muriel was in when I found him, I had to agree. “I’ve been okay so far, but if you’re sure…”

“Yes.” It sounded forced, but it was good enough for me. 

“Thank you, Muri. It’ll be nice to not have to worry about the rain.” I put my hand on his arm as I said this, but pulled back when he flinched. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He clearly was not going to elaborate. I had so many questions for him, namely why he was unconscious and bloody in the forest when we first met, but I could tell that I would have to take things slow. For such an imposing figure, he was really quite vulnerable. It seemed that we had each resolved in our own ways to take care of each other.

6

The following morning woke the both of us with slender rays of sun streaming through the window. Muriel had insisted on sleeping in a bundle of furs on the floor instead of next to me in bed, which I found absurd. I had spent my whole life on Ithanara sleeping in a dog pile of priestesses, and the thought of such a thing being uncomfortable or strange was foreign to me. He was up before me, and was already cooking breakfast. Keeping a blanket wrapped around me, I trundled over to where he was sitting by the hearth with Inanna. 

“Good morning.”

“Hmph.” He passed me a plate, refusing to meet my gaze. Despite his grumpiness, there was something so disingenuous about it that I wasn’t bothered at all. He wasn’t really in a bad mood, but I had no idea why he pretended to be. 

“Muri, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

He did, then. The shades of green that stared back at me were beautiful, and I couldn’t help but tell him so. “N-no they’re not. I’m not beautiful.”

“Yes you are.” I sat down on the ground beside Inanna and scratched behind her ears, earning a grumble of pleasure. 

He didn’t seem to know how to respond, so he just kept stuffing his breakfast into his mouth to avoid the conversation. I didn’t press him, but after a while I couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Muri, what hurt you in the forest? When I found you, it looked like something had tried to kill you.”

His eyes widened for just a second, then he mumbled something about a fight When he saw my expression, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I...Have you ever seen the Coliseum?” I grimaced and nodded. “I don’t like it either.”

Muriel paused for so long that I thought he might not continue, so I took his hand in mine. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

His fingers twitched, but he did not let them curl around mine. He breathed a heavy sigh and looked down to the ground. “I’m a gladiator there. The count said he would hurt Asra if I didn’t work for him.” The words were barely a whisper, but I heard them well enough to understand.

“You got hurt in a fight at the Coliseum?” Muriel nodded. “Why didn’t anyone there take care of you?”

“They tried...in the beginning...but I don’t like it when they touch me.”

I looked down at where my hand still held his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here. I can take care of you now.”

He started, frowning at me. “You don’t have to-”

“I will.” I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and to my surprise, he squeezed back. “I want to.”

There weren’t many times that I needed to heal Muriel after a day in the Coliseum, but every evening was filled with pleas for him to stop going there altogether. 

“Muri, we can take care of Asra. He can take care of himself. What can the count do to him that we couldn’t stop?”

“Aida, I can’t risk it. You don’t know what Lucio is capable of.”

“He’s ruining your life!”

Seeing that tears were beginning to spill over my cheeks, he let the subject drop and hugged me close to his chest. Muriel had become less averse to touch since I had been living with him, but it was rare that he would initiate contact. Neither of us said a word, just breathed in the scent of each other that was starting to mingle more and more into the scent of us. Our home, our clothes, us. I had convinced him, after weeks of prodding, to share the bed with me. I hated to see him sleep on the floor, and he was so warm beside me. It was little things like this that built on top of each other until we were forced to realize that I was no longer a guest, and that we couldn’t imagine a day where we weren’t together.

The next day, I sent Inanna to bring Asra to our house, along with his familiar, a snake named Faust. Hearing his little feet patter on the worn floor always made me smile. 

“Hi Aida! Faust said that Inanna said that you and Muri are were worried about me, so I came right over!” His white curls bounced as he flopped onto the bed. He was growing so much that he could already rest his chin on my shoulder. 

I poked my head around the door to make sure Muriel was still out feeding the chickens, then whispered conspiratorially to Asra, “Will you help me convince Muri to stop fighting in the Coliseum?” He nodded fervently; he hated Count Lucio and the gladiator fighting even more than I did. 

It didn’t take much to sway him once Asra and I had ganged up on him, but I could tell that Muriel was still worried. “It’ll be okay, love. Asra can stay here with us until we’re sure he’s safe.”

His face reddened when I called him by the pet name, but he sighed and nodded. “Okay.” 

Asra let out a whoop of celebration, which prompted Inanna to howl along. Faust wiggled her tail in agreement, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

7

In the time it took for all of us to be certain that Asra was no longer in danger of the count, who had probably forgotten about his threat by then anyway, he had grown to be a head taller than me. I had to face the facts: he was a young adult, not my little sheepie. He had always pretended to hate the pet name I had given him, but he never told me to stop. No matter how tall he got, I could be sure that his hair would be just as white and fluffy. 

Asra moving out of the house came with a load of strange emotions that neither Muriel or I knew how to process. It was just the two of us plus a wolf, and it was terrifyingly freeing. 

“Goddess above, I feel like a mother bird whose chicks have all flown away.” Fetching eggs from the chickens had put the thought in my head, and Muriel gave me a rare smile as he took them from me.

“Do you want to be a mother?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he fumbled with the eggs in his hands, almost dropping them. He tried to backpedal, but all that came out was, “I-uh. Not-I don’t know...Sorry.”

I laughed and handed him a bowl for the eggs. “I know what you meant, love...Yeah, I do think I’d like to be a mother. I was always so excited when a new priestess would come to the temple. It was so fascinating to watch them grow up…”

“Do you miss them?” He must have seen the cloudiness in my eyes.

“Only when I think about them...but sometimes I feel this ache when I see something that reminds me of Ithanara.” I took his hand and led him a little ways away from the house. “See these flowers? We had some like these on Ithanara. They didn’t grow near the temple because it was too sunny on the hill, but you could find them in little patches of shade.”

“What are they called?”

“Hmm...I think they’re called Alyssum.” 

Muriel sat down beside the flowers and picked a handful, deftly weaving them into a crown. “Here,” he said, setting it on my head. 

I giggled and gave him a peck on the nose. “Thank you, Muri. It’s lovely.” Before either of us knew what was happening, our lips had found each other and we were kissing. It was soft and sweet; just right. Pulling away for a breath of air, neither of us could speak, only smile so wide our faces hurt. I cupped his face with my hands and went in for another. It was just as good, maybe even better. Muriel melted under my touch, holding me in his lap and letting me pull him into my embrace. It was electrifying, and yet so comfortable to be so close to him. I never would have let him go if Inanna hadn’t pushed her snout between our faces to make sure we were aware that it was time for dinner. 

I threw my hands up and laughed as she wormed her way into our arms. “Okay, okay! Give me a minute!” She bounded inside as I stood, pulling Muriel up with me. He thought I couldn’t see him smiling at me, and I let him. If I said anything, he would have turned away and pretended it never happened, and there was no need to embarrass the poor man. 

The following days were full of tender moments, many of them ruined by Inanna. Muriel no longer grumbled when I made space for him in bed, and I brought things back from the Marketplace that I thought he might like. Our life was quiet, but never dull. Domesticity served us well, and the occasional visit from Asra or Anfisa was all we needed from the outside world. Our little corner of the forest hardly changed, but how does one improve upon perfection?


	4. Anfisa

ANFISA

1

Two days before I met Aida for the first time, I had spent hours pining after the one person in the whole city that couldn’t seem to take a hint. Countess Nadia’s head servant, Portia, had been the only thing on my mind for months. Sweeter than strawberries and prettier than a spring day, she consumed my heart without having any idea. 

I had been called to the palace by the countess one day to aid her in writing to a long list of correspondents. My print shop had earned me a reputation in Vesuvia of being the highest authority on reading and writing, and I was flattered to be commissioned by the countess, though I was only writing letters. She wanted me to draft copies of an invitation to the masquerade with a special attention to the spelling of exotic and complicated names of the noble recipients and their homelands. She allotted me a hefty sum and a guest room to work in, though at first I preferred to work from my shop where all of my heavy equipment could remain stationary. The idea of bringing it all with me was almost nauseating until I realized a much better reason to commute. 

I met Portia on my eighth day of writing letters, and I had been making good progress. Later on, I would curse my efficiency. Portia was speaking with the countess in the dining room when I returned with a bundle of papers. I was awestruck by her beauty; the curve of her hips, the bounce of her hair, the way she greeted me with a smile bright enough to make the blazing sconces look dim. I was halfway through greeting Countess Nadia when my words turned to mush in my mouth and all I could muster were a few bumbling mumbles.

“Is everything alright, Anfisa? Perhaps you should sit.”

Hearing her mistress’ offer, Portia pulled out a chair from the table so that I could fall into it, my cheeks still red despite my dark complexion. “Do you need anything? Water?”

I shook my head and cleared my throat, the attention forcing my thoughts to straighten out. “N-no thank you. I’ll be fine in a moment.” Seeing the concern remain on their faces, I scrambled for an excuse for my odd behavior. “I forgot to eat this morning, I guess it caught up to me.”

Portia frowned, her dimples causing my heart to flutter. “That’s no good...I’ll go get you a snack.” She bustled off, leaving me alone with the countess.

Nadia gave me a wry smile and took a seat next to me. “My, my, Anfisa. This morning has been quite...exciting for you, hmm?”

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “I don’t know what to do with myself when I see her.” I let my fingers spread so I could peek through. “What’s her name?” My voice had become pathetically faint, and I dropped my hands into my lap.

Nadia had the nerve to laugh. “That was Portia, my most trusted and valuable servant.” She turned to the door behind her. “Ah, there she is now.”

I could feel my face heating up again as Portia set down a plate in front of me and a crystal glass of water. “I hope this helps.” 

I nodded and took a small sip.

Nadia stood and picked up the bundle I had brought with me. “I must attend to these, but Portia will stay with you for today while you work.” I could swear she winked at me. “I couldn’t leave my guest to work alone under such an ailment, could I?” And with that, we were alone.

2

I led Portia to my work room without a word, afraid that if I tried to speak it would only come out as broken syllables. She trotted along beside me, happy as a clam, chatting away about her day. I wanted so badly to listen, but all I could focus on was her hand swinging dangerously close to mine with each step we took. The trip from the first floor to the second had never felt so long. 

Seeing the state I had left the room in sent me into a flurry of motion; everything was a mess and the last thing I needed was for Portia to think I couldn’t take care of myself. The weight of her hand on my shoulder brought me back down to earth.

“Anfisa, it’s okay. I’m not afraid of a little mess.” Looking into her eyes was a mistake; they sparkled like the ocean under the sun. I nodded, unable to respond verbally. 

She joined me at my desk, where I had been hurriedly throwing things into the drawers. Picking up a half-finished letter, she squinted at the writing. “What does it say?”

Now this was something I could put words to. “This is a letter to Nazali Satrinava, one of Nadia’s sisters. I hadn’t gotten far with this one yet, but it says, ‘Unto Their Royal Highness, Princess of Prakra. Lady Nadia of Vesuvia humbly requests your appearance at the annual Masquerade.’”

Portia turned the paper this way and that, still confused by the writing. “Where did you learn to write like that? It’s so...fancy.”

I smiled, nervous, yet endeared by her. “My parents taught me when I was very young. It’s not so hard once you get used to the rules.”

She turned to face me, her beaming smile practically lighting up the room. “Can you teach me?”

I swallowed hard, imagining the emotional peril I would be putting myself in if I agreed. Meeting her eyes, her enthusiasm rolled over me like a wave. Well...it might not be so bad. 

3

The look in Nadia’s eye when we asked her permission to allow Portia to take some time off once a week for writing lessons was unmistakable. Neither was her wry smile as she changed the schedule to twice a week. Cursing my inability to say no, I smiled and nodded my way through the conversation, as well as the trip back to my work room with my new pupil.

She bounced up the stairs, telling me about all of the pretty books in the library that she wanted to read and all the flowery calligraphy she wanted to recreate. I was a much better listener this time, adding some of my favorite books to the list. Shining bright enough to rival the sun, she gleefully mentioned that she could use her lessons to write a list of all these novels. I thought that was a great idea.

Spreading out my pens, I sat Portia down and asked her to repeat the list. As she spoke, I wrote down all twelve titles and turned my paper toward her. “This is our list.” I put my finger on one. “Which one do you think this is?”

She furrowed her brows in thought, causing my heart to flip. Her nose scrunched up and she hummed to herself, then she gave me a tentative response. “The Bear and the Nightingale?”

“No, this one is The Elegance of the Hedgehog.” Her face fell, and I scrambled to recover. “Don’t worry, that was a really good guess! Same number of words, both start with ‘the,’ and there’s plenty of titles here.” 

“Hmm...I guess that makes sense.”

She took another look through the list while I bit my lip to stop from smiling at the way her nose scrunched. “Why don’t you pick a book and I’ll read it to you. Then we can work on writing out some of the words you hear.”

Portia nodded and took a seat at my desk. “The bear one was pretty, let’s do that one.”

Cover crackling with age, I opened it to the first page and began to read aloud. Every so often I would glance up to see her watching me intently. I could feel her gaze even as I focused on the pages, but it wasn’t invasive like it might have been if someone else was sitting in front of me. She had a way of making me feel like I deserved her full attention.

Closing the book at the end of the first chapter, I asked, “What do you think?”

“I loved it! I want to know more about Vasya’s mom.” She leaned forward in her excitement, giving me a breath of floral perfume. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” I could feel a blush creeping up my face as Portia leaned in even further to look at the book in my lap. “Let’s write out the first line.”

I named each letter as we drew them on the paper I had laid out, reading each word as we finished it. 

“What does this one mean?”

“Sullen? It’s like...gloomy and maybe kind of bad-tempered.”

Portia laughed, her eyes lighting up. “That sounds like a few of my co-workers.”

I smiled along, but it was subdued; my thoughts were elsewhere.

“Good thing you’re not sullen, Anfisa, or we’d both be having a terrible time.” She nudged me with her elbow, snapping me back to reality.

“I could never have a terrible time with you.” I immediately cursed my tongue for speaking my first thought. I opened my mouth to recover myself, but no words came out.

“Right back at ya, darlin’.” She was looking right at me, right through me to my naked heart. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her lips. “Let’s find some prettier words, hmm?”

4

The next week passed in much the same way; I fumbled with my feelings and Portia caught them and handed them back to me gently. She was a quick learner when it came to writing, and her reading wasn’t too far behind. Each lesson started with me reading a chapter, then we would pick apart each sentence until Portia felt comfortable with her abilities or we needed a break. 

I kept sneaking glances at her lips, unable to refuse myself. Everything about her was soft and pink and lovely, and there was nothing I wanted more than to kiss her.

As an early riser, I was used to being the only one awake, but Portia was always up around the same time to ready the palace for the day ahead. One morning I had gone for a walk in the garden to stretch my legs when I almost ran right into her as she came around a hedge. 

“Anfisa! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She had taken hold of my arm to keep me from falling and I was keenly aware of the contact. “I was just going back to my cottage, why don’t you come have breakfast with me?”

There was a heavy pause where I flailed inwardly to find the words I needed. “Y-yes.” I was going to have to do better than that. “Ah...that would be very nice, yes, let’s go.”

She gave me a funny look that I definitely deserved and led me through the garden to her cozy little cottage in the very back of the grounds. As I stepped over the threshold, I was greeted by a little brown cat that wound herself around my legs and gave me a polite meow.

“Anfisa, this is Pepi, Pepi this is Anfisa. Go ahead and make yourself at home.”

Everything in the little house was so...Portia, it made me feel excited and yet so comfortable, just the way she did. Pepi jumped onto the sofa and meowed again. Sinking into the cushions, I gave her a scratch behind the ear. The smell of eggs and bacon traveled through the kitchen to the living room and I got up to see if Portia needed any help with breakfast.

“Oh, don’t worry! This stuff is easy-peasy and I’m almost done. Go have a seat at the table and I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

Unable to argue, I did as she said. Pepi jumped into my lap and purred loudly, eliciting a giggle from Portia. “Sounds like she likes you!”

The food was delicious and with each moment I felt myself relaxing into a better headspace. I was there with Portia because she wanted me there. I didn’t have to impress her, and being nervous wasn’t helping. The realization didn’t change anything, but it certainly helped my nerves. It was easier to enjoy spending time with Portia when I wasn’t fretting. She was beautiful and charismatic and wonderful, and I never wanted to leave that morning breakfast with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books I mentioned are actually real books that I own and love!


	5. Kaldani

KALDANI

1

The glittering jewel of the north, Prakra, was all I knew of the world for twenty years. I knew that my parents were protective of me, as I was their only child and heir to their good name, but the feeling of being trapped in a gilded cage was only that until I began to explore the city further. Growing up in a noble family was not easy, what with all the expectations and responsibility imparted on me from a young age, but it broke my heart every time I passed by the poorer parts of the capital city. It was in one of these more downtrodden districts that I first met a young boy named Vikram. He was a year older than me at fourteen years, and the most noticeable thing about him was his lack of shoes.

“You are going to step on something sharp if you are not careful.” I called out to him from where I had been left waiting on my aunt to do her business inside the building I was leaning against. “Why do you not wear any shoes?”

He tilted his head at me and laughed in lieu of response, kicking a pebble at me from the step he was perched on.

“Hey! That was incredibly rude. If you did not want to answer my query, you could have left without being so-so....nasty!”

Sensing how frustrated I was, and how difficult it had been for me to call him nasty, the boy hopped down the rest of the steps to join me. “Query? Who talks like that?

I turned away from him in a huff. “I do, obviously. What do you want?”

Smirking like an alley cat, he sidled up to me, leaving hardly any room between us. “I just wanna answer your query, princess. That’s all.” He dragged out the word I had used in a way that made my face burn in anger.

Refusing to face him, I crossed my arms over my waifish frame. “If I was a princess, I would be in the palace, not having rocks kicked at me by some ruffian.”

He hummed low in his throat, leaning forward until I could feel his breath on my neck through the thin scarf wound around my head and shoulders. “I’m not wearing any shoes because the real princess and her family don’t want me to.”

I whipped around, fury burning in my eyes. The boy had to throw his head back to avoid getting hit by my hair. “The royal family is doing all they can to uphold the strength and generosity of Prakra, how could you mock them like that?”

His smirk returned in full force, causing my teeth to grit so that I would not say anything I might regret. “Is that what they tell you? Well if the royal family is so great, where are my shoes? And my clothes without holes, and my house with a roof that doesn’t leak every time it rains? Why don’t they put all those riches into making their citizens safe instead of sending off more troops to the east?”

My heart was hammering hard enough that I thought it might burst out of my chest. There was no way this boy, this vagrant, was telling the truth. And yet...some part of me knew he was right. I could be as angry as I wanted, but that would not change the way of the world. 

“I-I see your point.” Clasping my hands together, I desperately hoped that my aunt would return to me soon so that I would not have to face him any longer. 

“Name’s Vikram, if you ever wanna talk politics again.” His face was so close to mine. I could practically taste the spices on his breath, and it made my stomach growl. “Nice to meet you…”

“Kaldani. My name is Kaldani Zarine.” I wanted so badly to turn away again, but there was some hidden force that kept my eyes locked on his. “I assume you know where to find me.” My family was well known in the capital city, but not much further out. 

“See you around, Kaldani.” And with that, he hopped back up the steps and out of sight.

“Beti, are you ready to go?” My aunt stepped out of the building and extended her hand to me, which I gladly took. The day was far from over, and I was already looking forward to seeing my bed again.

2

The next time I saw Vikram was outside of a dance hall during a celebration. The stars illuminated the otherwise pitch-black night, and the noise from the party could be heard across the surrounding streets. I had stepped out to get a breath of fresh air away from all the sights and sounds that made my breath come out in short, strangled gasps. I found Vikram rooting through a pile of boxes that someone had set down beside the trash.

“Vikram? What are you doing here?”

He paused just long enough to meet my eyes, then went back to inspecting the contents of each box. “What does it look like, your highness? I’m trying to find something decent to eat. Honestly, you people throw out perfectly good food like it’s garbage.”

I raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not move from my position by the door. “It is garbage. These are the garbage cans.” I pointed at the bins behind him.

“To your tastes, maybe.”

I crossed my arms and continued to stare, confused. “Do you want me to get you something from inside? There’s plenty of food to go around that isn’t...ah, tainted by the dumpster.”

Vikram stood up and stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose a thin line of skin at his midriff. I looked away, my face tinted red. “Why not? You think I could take some home for my parents?”

“I don’t see why not. Come, the dining tables are still plenty full.” I led him through the throng of people dancing and singing along to Prakran folk songs to the feast at the side of the hall. “Here, you go on and eat while I find some boxes.” 

His eyes lit up at the food, shining in the colored lights. He was just another ordinary citizen, but he could have been royalty in another life.

When I returned, Vikram was hovering over some roast duck, seemingly debating which part to taste. Joining him, I set down the boxes on the table and surveyed the room. No one had noticed us, but that was to be expected. So many noble families all in one dining hall, all intermingling like a school of colorful fish. Light glinting off of dark skin and sparkling bangles, spinning and whirling like scarves in the wind. 

When I turned to face him again, he was staring into my eyes with a strange look on his face. He seemed like he wanted to tell me something, so I kept quiet and waited for him to speak. Instead, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to mine. I jerked back, slapping a hand over my mouth. There was a sick feeling rising up from my stomach into my throat as I staggered away from him. Why had he done this? Why did it make me want to vomit?

“Kaldani? What’s wrong?” Vikram held out his hand toward me, but I kept backing away. Tears were beginning to sting my eyes and I couldn’t hold them back. He spoke to me again, but the words of comfort were lost on me. I turned and ran out of the room, embarrassed at myself, sick at the thought of him.

I ran until I reached the front steps of my home, where I crumpled onto the threshold with a choked sob. I was disgusted with myself, with Vikram, with everything. I slowly picked myself up and went up to my room to wash my face of tears.

3

Vikram tried to find me a few times, but it didn’t take long for him to give up the chase. I had no interest in seeing him again, not because I hated him, but because I did not have the words or strength to explain myself. There had to be something wrong with me. The other girls fawned over boys like Vikram, and I kept to myself until I was forced even further away from young love. 

I did not tell my mother or father what had happened. I did not want them to worry for me or tell me I should have just accepted his advances like a good noble girl. I stayed in my room whenever I could, practicing my flute, then my piano, guitar, harp, any kind of musical instrument I could get my hands on. I loved the way music lifted me out of myself, allowing an escape from tumultuous feelings. The sounds I plucked from the strings and keys danced in the air around me, filling that unknown void.

I knew my parents worried for me. They whispered together when they thought I wasn’t listening, debating what they should do to bring me out of my shell. After a period of months, they came to a conclusion. I was to take a trip to Vesuvia, a large city to the south of Prakra, for a few days with my father. He needed to meet with one of Vesuvia’s courtiers about a trade deal, and I would be joining him. Unable to muster up any feeling toward it, I agreed to appease them. 

The journey was not as long as I anticipated, though it was spent in a boat that made my stomach turn. I was not made for the sea, and my father could tell, so he did what he could to comfort me in my sickness. Our arrival was met with a coach from the palace, and the ride to the city center was much more comfortable. The palace itself was magnificent; soaring towers and stained glass windows that provided a stark contrast to the architectural styles of my home.

As I stepped out of the coach, I breathed in the spices wafting through the air from the marketplace. The aromas were complex and pleasing to the senses, giving me a better impression of the city. The roads were narrow and trafficked, but the courtyard in front of the palace's drawbridge was expansive.

As I took a step toward the bridge, the front doors opened for whom could only be the countess. My father had only told me that her husband had died three years prior, and that was all I had to go on.

Seeing her walk towards me was overwhelming to say the least. The countess was enchanting in her beauty, graceful in the way she moved, and captivating in the way her eyes caught mine and held them. My breath caught in my throat. Frozen in place, I waited for her to reach me at the edge of the drawbridge. 

"Lord Zarine, how lovely to finally meet you and your daughter."

He bowed and smiled the way he did for any high ranking person. "Countess Nadia, it is my pleasure. It is always good to see another Prakran in a position like this, but I had assumed that Consul Valerius would be speaking with me."

"I'm afraid that Consul Valerius has been occupied, but I have been given access to every bit of information that he had gathered. Please, allow me to assist you in your business deal." She smiled and I felt my knees weaken.

"Thank you, Countess. That will be fine." My father bowed to her a second time and we followed her into the palace.

4

The palace was beautiful, but it paled in comparison to the countess herself. Her long pink hair swished with her hips as she walked, and I felt as though I might be hypnotized had she not addressed me.

“This will be your room, Kaldani. Please feel free to join us in our meeting in the library, or perhaps you might like to rest here until dinner. Anyone you find in the halls can guide you if you get lost.” 

Kaldani nodded, wondering how long she had been holding her breath. Releasing it with a smile, she opened the door to see a lavish room that could rival her home in Prakra. Soft silk on the bed, plush carpet under her feet, crystal decanter on the dresser, it was the epitome of comfort. She set her bag on the ground and hung her coat in the closet before flopping into bed for a long awaited nap. 

She was brought back to the world by a tap on the door. “Come in.”

Nadia greeted her with a soft smile. “Hello Kaldani, dinner is just about to begin.”

Puzzled at why the countess wouldn’t send a servant to wake her, she shook off the feeling to join her hostess in the hall. Walking together toward the dining hall was a brief, but pleasant affair. The silence was comfortable and Nadia’s hand brushed hers more than once. Each time, Kaldani had to swallow her excitement and will her expression to remain neutral.

Dinner was delicious, and the talk was commonplace. New developments in politics, annoying co-workers, and the like. She could hardly keep her eyes off of the countess, who was making much less of an effort to stop doing the same. Each glance was an unspoken promise to meet after the meal had ended.

As the plates were being cleared away, Nadia excused Kaldani and herself to a balcony overlooking the garden. The air was crisp and the sounds of the night hummed softly all around them. “How long will you be staying?”

“Just two days.” How she wished it were longer.

“Well that’s hardly any time to get to know someone, don’t you think?” Her ruby eyes glinted in the moonlight. “Why don’t you stay just a little longer. Everything will be taken care of, and we can have so many more of these...talks together.”

Kaldani had a feeling that the countess was hoping for much more than talking. “I would love to.”

“Excellent.” She leaned in to kiss her cheek, eliciting a deep blush. “I’m sure we can find plenty of ways to pass the time.” She winked mischievously as Kaldani searched for a response.

“I am anxious to see what you have in store for me, my lady.”

“Please, call me Nadia.” The breeze picked up, making Kaldani shiver. “Why don’t we go inside? My private bath should be adequately warm.” Her tone was light, but there was no mistaking her meaning.

“That sounds amazing.” She leaned in closer, breathing in her rich scent. There was something so thrilling about being near Nadia. So close to her lips, she thought of how she would like to kiss them. No one had ever made her feel so wanted, so worth wanting. The attention from any possible suitor meant nothing to her then. Her senses were overtaken by want and she took Nadia's hand to assuage just a bit of it. This bath couldn't come any quicker.


	6. Ragna

RAGNA

1

“Come on, Monty! You could at least try to keep up!” Laughter ringing out against the trees, ever so slightly muffled by the falling snow, we and our band of merry warriors chased after a young boar. Being a year older than the heir to the clan had its perks, teasing him relentlessly being my favorite. 

Montag Morgasson was not my best friend; I didn’t have those. Better to keep my distance so I could stay vigilant for the hunt. Our clan, the Scourge of the South, was known for our ability to conquer any territory, and I was certain that I could be one of the best warriors ever witnessed. I could hunt with or without companions, I could fish and gather the best plants, I could even skin and clean the animals I caught. Making leather was more difficult, but my mother was teaching me when she had the time.

The boar would make the perfect practice material. Weaving through the trees and trip-inducing roots, I kept far ahead of Monty. Not looking behind me, I did not see him sprint to catch up so he could tackle me to the ground. Faces inches from each other, we heaved clouds into the cold air. 

“That’s what you get for making fun of me!”

I pushed him off and rolled over to switch our positions. “If you don’t quit being such a whiny ass, the boar is gonna get away.” My tone wasn’t harsh, but his face crumpled into a frown.

“Get off of me then!”

Rolling my eyes, I got up and pulled him with me. The rest of the group wasn’t too far away, and we ran to join them. The beast was cornered and squealing loud enough to wake the dead. Wild eyes in every face in the clearing, we advanced with our spears. The sound grated on our ears and the adrenaline rushed through our veins. It was no contest. Within minutes, the boar was dead on the ground. 

Fenya, Monty’s age but much better suited to a hunting party, gathered some twigs to decide which two of us would have to carry the bounty home. Two were broken in half and they were all held to hide the lengths. We each drew a twig and Monty and I were chosen. 

“Why do I have to carry it? I’m the prince, I shouldn’t have to do this!”

“Nobody cares, Monty. Just take the legs and help me put it on our shoulders.”

He grumbled, but did as he was told. Blood dripped onto the snow and stained our footsteps red. I was too proud of our kill to mind, but Monty whined the whole way home. When we set the boar down by the fire pit, his mother was there waiting. 

“An adequate hunt. Both of you go clean yourselves and come back here to learn how to prepare the meat with your comrades.” Morga was the head of the clan and my hero. Her strength in battle and in leading our people was admirable beyond compare. 

Grabbing Monty’s hand, I led him to the bath-house. His whining had ceased after leaving the boar at the fire pit, but his foul mood had not wavered. 

“Here, take this.” I handed him a washcloth and started shimmying out of my clothes. Bathing was not a private affair in our clan, so there was no shame in sharing a tub with him. Grabbing another cloth, I helped him with the buttons on his soiled shirt and got into the water. It was lukewarm, not nearly as much of a shock to the system as it usually was in the winter. Spring was peeking around the corner and the world was beginning to enjoy a bit more sun. Monty and I could see out the window to the first few saplings as we cleaned ourselves of blood.

Morga and the rest of our hunting party were still waiting by the fire pit when we emerged from the bath-house. Sitting down beside them, she showed us how to properly skin the animal with a knife from her belt. Morga’s methods were straightforward and terse. No congratulations on a job well done, but she was a good teacher. Monty scowled at the re-introduction of gore. He had toughened up over the years, but he still had a softer underbelly than most of our peers. Skilled and able to complete any harsh task assigned to him, the difference was his sensitivity. I didn’t dislike Monty, and I never minded his company, but his tears and complaints confused me.

2

As the years went on, Monty and I grew into more complex characters than we were as eleven and twelve year olds. I had not given up my dream of becoming the fiercest warrior of our clan, but I had other priorities. I had finally learned how to make leather, and I aided my mother in her trade while dipping my toes into all kinds of other crafts. I forged swords, I weaved clothing, I became a better hunter. Monty joined me in some lessons, but we had no more interaction than usual.

Things changed when we were sent out with a few others on a week long expedition during a shortage of game during a particularly harsh winter. Two siblings were our companions, and so one tent was for them and one was for us. Arne and Alva were twins and preferred to work as a pair. This left Monty and I to ourselves for the most part. 

Our first day on the road was uneventful and the sunset was a welcome end to boredom. Camp set up, we settled in for the night. Owls screeched as they descended upon their prey. Snakes slithered through the underbrush. Monty was sound asleep within minutes, but every noise alerted my ears to a possible threat. Laying on my back, staring at the ceiling of the tent, I tried unsuccessfully to calm my nerves. All I wanted to do was join my fellow predators in stalking potential prey. 

Halfway through the night, a much closer sound caused my eyes to snap open. Monty was thrashing around on his side of the tent and muttering to himself as he slept. Sitting up abruptly, I instinctively reached over to gently touch his shoulder. When he did not wake, I moved to his side and brushed his tangled hair out of his face. 

“Monty, wake up.” I whispered so as not to spook him. “You’re dreaming, wake up.”

The thrashing ceased as his eyes fluttered open. “Ragna?”

“I’m right here, everything’s okay.” Inwardly, I cringed at the vulnerability I was allowing myself to show. Outwardly, I remained soft and gentle for his sake.

“I-I was alone.” He was shivering and curled toward me as I kept my hand on his cheek. 

“You’re not alone. I’m right here.” Taking him in my arms, I couldn’t help but see the child I had grown up teasing. His skin was feverish and paler than usual. Grabbing my canteen, I tilted it to his lips. “You need water, Monty.”

With just a hint of hesitation, he gulped it down. “How long has it been?”

“Since nightfall? A few hours. It’ll be awhile until sunrise.”

He let out a deep breath and wound his arms around me to bring me closer. “Please don’t let go.”

He must have really been in pain; Montag Morgasson never said please. We stayed close together for the rest of the night, even allowing Anse and Alva to start breaking camp without us so Monty could have more time to collect himself. 

Before too long, Alva swatted the side of our tent. “Up and at em’ lovebirds! Can’t stay in bed forever!”

Groaning at the comment and my aching joints, I untangled myself and got ready to face the day. Strapping on my armor raised my spirits as it always did, but Monty was less confident and excited than the day before. Not quite sullen enough to make the others notice, but I could tell the difference. 

I let the twins go ahead so that I could join Monty’s side. It was an odd feeling to care whether he was doing alright; I was used to forging ahead and only looking out for myself. I just couldn’t shake the thought of his shivering body in my arms. He seemed so...fragile. We were approaching the year when he would take the helm of the clan, and he was growing into the kind of leader he thought would be best. Cocky and confident, willing to take a stand and do what he thought was right whether or not others agreed. 

“What were you dreaming about?”

He gave me a side-eye like he didn’t believe I really gave a damn. “Don’t remember all of it, but I was alone in the forest.” He took a deep breath and did not make eye contact. “It kept changing as I ran. It looked wrong...sounded wrong.”

I knew I wasn’t the most friendly person, but I did want to make sure he was alright. “Home not being home anymore. That’s one of the worst things I can imagine.”

He hummed in agreement, but there was a measure of doubt in the way he held himself. 

“Having my home taken away and perverted would be terrifying.”

“Thank you, Ragna. For being there.” Again with the unnatural politeness. Years ago I would have thought both of us weak. 

3

The remainder of the expedition went smoothly enough, with only a few disappointments when prey eluded us. We returned to the clan with deer, rabbits, and squirrels, as well as edible plants we foraged along the way. It would not fill every stomach, but starvation would be pushed back for a few more weeks. 

Monty and I did not speak about the night I held him. We fell back into our own routines, but any time a nightmare cropped up, we found the other to sleep in their arms. There was a good amount of arguments and cold shoulders, but sunset heralded a time of peace and comfort.

The first time I considered going to Monty during the night, I convinced myself to work through my pain alone. The second time, the nightmare had been the same and I woke up with tears stinging my eyes. Angry at my pain and my need for comfort, I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t need him. He stayed in the largest building with his family; it served as a home, a meeting place, and a dining hall. There was no need to conceal myself, though the shame staining my cheeks red made me feel like I was committing some kind of crime. There was hardly a moment between when I tapped on Monty’s window and when he opened it to ask what I was doing.

“I...I need to see you.” The quaver in my voice fueled my self-detriment. 

“Why?” He looked me in the eye and answered his own question. “Oh, I see. Here.”

He opened the window as widely as possible and I climbed into his room with ease. It was luxurious compared to my own room, but knowing Monty, he wasn’t satisfied. Nothing was fine or fancy enough for his highness. Fortunately, he did not mention any woes of his own as I laid down in his bed and wrapped myself in blankets. 

“You gonna keep all those for yourself?”

I grumbled, but I let him into my cocoon. He pulled the blankets close and me closer until my head was against the crook of his neck. Still shaky, I did not protest. 

“Bad dream?” His hand rubbed circles into my back as I hummed my assent. “What about?”

“A storm.” He waited for me to say more, though I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. “Darkness covering everything. The world was shaking and there was fire.”

“Scary.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me back so we were laying down. “You want me to distract you?”

I shrugged as well as I could in our cocoon of blankets. Monty described the day he had; the annoying dog that barked through his nap, the way his mother never listened to him, the discomfort of his fish staring at him at dinner. It was practically a list of grievances, but the absurdity of his irritation only humored me. With each trouble, I could easily think of what I would have done to avoid it.

“Why didn’t you just cut the head off?”

This was the first time I had spoken since he began his spiel, and it surprised him enough that he didn’t respond right away. “Uh...I didn’t have my knife.”

“Then how did you eat it?”

“Look,” There was that high-and-mighty tone I was so used to. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Ragna. The fish was ugly and rude, and that’s it. End of story.”

“That was a terrible story.” I couldn’t see him frown, but I knew he would.

“You’re the one who wanted me to distract you, now stop complaining and let me finish.”

Sleep inching its way into my head, I didn’t have the strength to really argue with him. Even so, I snorted at his comment. “You’re one to talk.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” If he was upset with me, he would have kicked me out of his room. This was just teasing, the kind we traded when we were kids. Instead of answering him, I snuggled closer and closed my eyes.

The next morning, the blankets had been kicked off and we were both splayed across the bed like tangled tree roots. Waking before him, I considered waiting, but eventually decided to leave. I had responsibilities to take care of.

4

As Monty’s eighteenth birthday approached, his mind was set on taking the reins of the clan. He was always distracted, always thinking of the future. The occasional conversations we had were overshadowed by his plans for our people. He wanted to make us stronger, expand the clan, take what we could not find on our own. His mother’s hand was firm, but her ambition was miniscule next to Monty’s. Nothing was enough. He would never be satisfied. 

One morning when I was preparing deer to be cooked for the evening meal, he sat down beside me with a strange look on his face. When I turned to him, the look morphed into a mask of confidence. 

“Ragna, I have a proposal for you.”

I gave him a crooked smile. “You trying to make a wife out of me, Montag?”

The look was back. “Well, in a way…” He trailed off and I almost dropped my knife in surprise.

“Are you serious?” I could feel heat rising in my cheeks. “You think you can slap your last name onto mine and tell me what to do?”

His ears had turned pink and the tension between us was palpable. “No, Ragna. I want to marry you because the clan needs a leader who can prove that he can make a relationship work. How can people follow someone who can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than a month!”

“That’s not my problem! I am not going to be some political puppet to make you look good, Monty. I have my own life to deal with, I don’t need you getting in my way.”

We were shouting now, causing a scene in the middle of the common area. I couldn’t remember when we stood up, but I had left the deer and my knife lying on the ground to spit my anger into his face. 

“Ragna, that’s ridiculous! I don’t want you to do everything I say, I want you to help me lead!”

“Oh, that’s nice, Monty. Why don’t you tell that to everyone else you made empty promises to? I’m sure some of them would love the chance to wring your neck for leaving them hanging.” Onlookers were beginning to gather nearby and it only made me more furious. 

“So I made some mistakes, you’re really gonna throw that in my face?”

My hands were curled into tight fists and I had to force myself to keep them at my sides. “What do you think I’m going to do? Follow you around and tell everyone how great you are even though we all know you couldn’t keep a promise if it meant your life?”

A crowd was forming, some watching in fear, some in excitement for the violence boiling under the conversation. 

Monty ended the spectacle by turning on his heel and marching away, calling back to me, “I don’t have to listen to this! Come find me when you change your mind.”

There was no way I would give him the satisfaction. I couldn’t even understand why he would choose me to antagonize. Surely, there was some other woman who would agree to be his wife. To me, it was obvious that I was not marriage material. I preferred to work alone, trusting only myself to reach my standards of a job well done. Working with Monty, or just spending time with him was one thing, being made his wife was another. Leading the clan was not something to be done alone; it would stifle me like a boar caught between spears.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Portia technically started working at the palace after Nadia was in a coma, but my timeline wouldn't really allow me to put Anfisa's story in a different setting that way.


End file.
